by Emmett Smith
Who cost the most are those always who live on the edges of our ordinary North Atlantic lives, in money, in the well being of our lands and our peoples, in our moral avalanche into oblivion.
Whether they be the decayed “daring” artistes doing stale “edgy” outragessness over and over and over for the third generation, or wealthy and universally sudsidized farmers of wornout land, and corporate CEOs and investment bankers busted over again and again, but never ever done with.
Whether the obscene legions of “helping” professionals and members of Parliament and the Congress, or the most untaught, drunken and drugged and homeless, unbenefited “clients” without skills and employment.
Whether on high in a laboring poorly cared for jet airliner about to fall from out of the sky.
Or already plunged over their heads into the common sewer of postmodernity, there is no difference.
None of that — or any of them — can make any difference, for the eyes are the same everywhere you look into them, of haunted hunted men and women in hock to the looming horror of History, and Never Ever Again.
(With thanks! to Coco, at Anna Raccoon, on May 1, 2009:
[Emmett R Smith all rights reserved 2 May 2009]